


The Backpack

by ProgramasaurusRex



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:03:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProgramasaurusRex/pseuds/ProgramasaurusRex
Summary: Gilfoyle has a survivalist backpack stashed under his bed that he claims will last him three days in the wilderness. Dinesh challenges him to prove it.





	The Backpack

"Well if you can't give me a proper status update on where your app is beyond 'up your blowhole and a couple exits down'," said Erlich, "then you're welcome to leave this incubator and I can fill your place with someone who deserves it!"

Gilfoyle picked up his laptop, turned around, and stormed out the door without another word. Dinesh watched him go out the window. Gilfoyle marched to the curb, rather violently entered his Jeep, and ... didn't leave.

Hours later, he was still out there, presumably sulking, showing all signs of planning to spend the night in his car. Dinesh didn't know Gilfoyle very well, and he wasn't sure why he cared. But for some weird reason, he just kept thinking about how uncomfortable Gilfoyle must be out there, no blanket or pillow or pajamas or anything. Dinesh was a bit fussy about such things himself and consequently had never slept in a car. It sounded awful.

He remembered Gilfoyle bragging a few months ago about how he had a survivalist bag packed and stashed under his bed so he could evacuate immediately in case some apocalyptic event happened. He thought about bringing Gilfoyle the bag. Would Gilfoyle be grateful, or creeped out? Dinesh wasn't close friends with anyone in the house yet, and he was anxious to get in good with somebody, and Gilfoyle was funny and cool and sarcastic. He'd be a good ally to have on your side, like an attack dog. Dinesh decided to summon all his available nonchalance and go for it.

The bag turned out to be a large, heavy, hiking style backpack. He hoped no one saw him leaving with it. If they did, they didn't comment.

When he approached the car window, Gilfoyle was lying in the driver's seat with the seat as far back as it would go, apparently unconcerned about his lack of bedding. But he'd already seen Dinesh and rolled down the window, so it was too late to leave.

"Uh, hey," said Dinesh nervously. "I thought you might want your overnight bag."

"That's a highly curated survivalist emergency kit designed to last seventy-two hours in the wilderness," said Gilfoyle. "Not an 'overnight bag'."

"Okay," said Dinesh. "Well, I guess ... I just thought you might be more comfortable if you had ... things ..."

Gilfoyle unlocked the doors and motioned for Dinesh to come inside. Dinesh awkwardly got into the passenger seat and set down the backpack in the back seat.

"Thanks," Gilfoyle said, shooting Dinesh an odd look and holding his eyes for a moment. Reaching into the back seat, he unzipped the bag and pulled out a space blanket.

"So Erlich's being a dick, huh?" said Dinesh sympathetically, watching Gilfoyle wrap the thin covering around himself.

"Yeah," said Gilfoyle noncommittally.

Dinesh wasn't sure what to say next. He wanted to stay and talk to Gilfoyle. But he wasn't sure if his presence would be appreciated.

"He wouldn't know a visionary app idea if it bit him on the nose," said Dinesh carefully.

Gilfoyle shifted onto his side to face Dinesh. "He hasn't even coded anything in years," he said. "Says he has carpal tunnel or something."

Dinesh put his seat back, too, so he could lay facing Gilfoyle. "So do you really think this bag could keep you alive for three days?"

"Yeah," said Gilfoyle.

"Ever tested it?" he asked.

Gilfoyle grinned. "Been meaning to."

"Well," said Dinesh, "this seems like a good opportunity."

And Gilfoyle looked him right in the eye, smirked knowingly, and asked, "Want to come with?"

Dinesh was torn. He had never really gone camping, and he wasn't at all sure he'd like it. "Well the bag won't keep both of us alive that long ..."

"Let's make it a day and a half then," said Gilfoyle. "We'll drive up north to this place I know in the woods."

There was something nice about this idea that Dinesh couldn't put his finger on. "I don't know much about camping."

"Perfect, an escort mission," said Gilfoyle. "It'll be good practice for me. You know, for the apocalypse."

Dinesh smiled, knowing Gilfoyle had won. "So that would make you the escort in this scenario?"

"Yep, I guess so," said Gilfoyle. "So are you in?"

"Okay," said Dinesh. "Should I go get anything?"

"That would sort of defeat the purpose of testing the bag," said Gilfoyle. "Come on, let's get out of here!"

They drove a long way before they got to the woods. It was peaceful really, getting out of the city, shutting his eyes for a minute in the dark while Gilfoyle drove. Dinesh had only been in San Francisco about four months, and he still felt like he hadn't found his place here.

Gilfoyle set up his tiny tent by the light of the headlights. "This tent was only built for one person," he said, a joke in his voice. "Hope that's not a problem."

"Please, I'm from Pakistan," said Dinesh, removing his shoes and scooting into the tent. "We don't need half as much personal space as you westerners. Americans always act like they're going to melt if you touch them. Especially when it's two men."

"So you and your buddies back in Pakistan touched each other a lot?" Gilfoyle said, snorting.

Dinesh folded his arms. "Yes," he said defiantly. "We aren't prudes there."

"Fair enough," said Gilfoyle. "I'm actually from Canada originally, but we're pretty stuffy too."

"Actually ..." Dinesh admitted, "it was pretty hard at first, learning not to touch anybody, even just like on the shoulder or on the back. When I was at Oxford, I started to make friends with these guys in my residence hall, but then ... I guess one of them took it the wrong way one day when I put my arm around him ... that was the end of that friendship. They're a little suspicious of us Pakis in the U.K."

What had gotten into him? The night had possessed Dinesh. Somehow, despite the icy wind whipping around the tent, despite the harsh odors of nature, despite the hard ground pressing through the tarp he sat on, he felt more comfortable than he had in years.

Gilfoyle pulled the blanket over both of their knees. "Do you miss it?"

"Pakistan? Or Oxford?" asked Dinesh.

"The touching," said Gilfoyle.

"Well ... yeah," said Dinesh. "It was part of how we showed we were close. Sometimes it feels like no one here is close to me."

Gilfoyle turned to look at him.

Blood flooded his face. "Oh my god, I can't believe I just said that out loud," said Dinesh. "I'm sorry."

Shit shit shit. The most intimidating person in the incubator now had dirt on him.

"Don't be sorry," said Gilfoyle. "Here --" He put his arm around Dinesh. "Now we're friends in Pakistan, too."

Dinesh felt a warmth in his shoulders that had nothing to do with the environment. He wondered if Gilfoyle was making fun of him. He decided to pretend he wasn't.

"Do you miss Pakistan though?" asked Gilfoyle.

"I don't know," said Dinesh. "I didn't like it much growing up. But there's not really any other place that feels like home either."

"You're kind of an angsty motherfucker, aren't you?" said Gilfoyle.

"I know. I'm ... not sure why I'm being so morbid tonight," said Dinesh, wondering why it was so surprisingly effortless to talk to Gilfoyle.

"It's fine," said Gilfoyle, fingers tapping on Dinesh's shoulder. "Sometimes you need to get things out. It's like the oil in your car. The longer you go without changing it, the blacker it gets."

"What about you?" Dinesh asked.

Gilfoyle chuckled. "Oh, my oil's disgusting."

"You ever miss Canada?" Dinesh asked.

"Not much to miss," said Gilfoyle. "It's a shithole."

Gilfoyle and Dinesh lay back and pulled the blanket over them.

"Do you think there's a life for us here?" Dinesh asked earnestly. "Fame and fortune and all that? Or just ... a life we can live with?"

"I don't know," said Gilfoyle. "But I think so. I'm here after all. I haven't packed up and gone home yet."

"You're planning on making up with Erlich then?" Dinesh asked.

"Maybe," said Gilfoyle. "Or I'll find another incubator."

"You're not attached to ours then?" asked Dinesh plaintively.

Gilfoyle looked at him and smiled. "I guess there are some benefits."

A day and a half later, they drove back to the Hacker Hostel.

"We made it," said Gilfoyle, pulling into the driveway. "I'll have to tell the guys on the survivalist forums."

Dinesh winced. His arms were covered in insect bites. His ears were sunburned. "Well I'm never doing that again," he said.

"What if there's a real apocalypse?" Gilfoyle asked.

Dinesh grinned. "I'll come find you."

He raced Gilfoyle back to the house.


End file.
